


Filling the Void

by vorare



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Belly Kink, Chubby!Cecil, M/M, Stuffing, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 04:02:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4651485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vorare/pseuds/vorare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lonely in the long months that Carlos is trapped in the desert otherworld, Cecil finds a coping mechanism that turns out to be more enjoyable than anticipated for all concerned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Filling the Void

In the ten months that Carlos had been gone, Cecil had put on weight. 

It had started innocuously enough. The loneliness and the distance had been painful, increasingly so as the months dragged on, sleep more elusive than usual as he lay awake in a bed with no warm other to cuddle up to. He had resorted, at first, to drinking. _Say nothing and drink to forget_ was a motto he had been inculcated with for as long as he could remember, after all, and the dead eldritch gods knew he wanted to forget the loneliness, the hollow ache in the pit of his stomach, the flicker of quickly-extinguished hope that would spark in his chest whenever Carlos would call – the hope that said _he’ll come home soon_. But though this strategy was a balm at first, after the first few weeks of waking up confused, hungover, and a few times inexplicably in the middle of the scrublands under the shadow of a lone cactus – which looked to have been given a rather unflattering haircut sometime in the recent past – he decided that this was not going to be an effective solution in the long-term. He abandoned his flask that night, and when he went to Big Rico’s after work for his municipally mandated weekly meal, without really knowing why he ordered a second bowl of gluten-free pizza mush after he had finished his first one, and then another after that. It was quite a lot more than he was used to eating; it made his stomach ache and strain, and there were a few moments during his walk home when he was worried that he might have to find a trashcan or a secluded alley to throw up in. But he had made it home without any such incident, and lying in bed with his pants unbuttoned, rubbing the ache out of his taut overfull stomach with his hands had felt… nice. Every time his mind had wandered to Carlos and his loneliness, his stomach had demanded the return of his attention with a resurgence of the dull ache of fullness or a rumbling gurgle. For the first time in a long time he was able to keep his mind comfortably blank without resorting to getting blackout drunk, and that was a gift he didn’t intend to turn his back on. When the painful overfullness had subsided to a bloated heaviness that was more soothing than uncomfortable, he had drifted into a sleep that was blessedly deep and relatively dreamless, and had woken in the morning feeling relaxed and rejuvenated. 

He had gone to the Ralph’s that same day and returned with enough food and snacks to fill his refrigerator and pantry, whose stock had lately dwindled to almost nothing as he could rarely bring himself to cook without the motivation of doing it for Carlos. And at each meal he ate a little more than he comfortably could, to recreate that marvelously distracting overfullness. It only took him a few days of this regimen to decide that it was much more effective than his drinking strategy. Finding new foods to fill his stomach with was as much of an enjoyable distraction as was actually eating them. He discovered varieties of tacos he had not imagined existed at Jerry’s Tacos (though, despite a few moments of temptation, he avoided ordering anything from the Forsaken Menu); he tried every flavor, every topping, and every combination thereof at the Pinkberry; he didn’t stray far from the roast beef at Arby’s because that was just classic, and it hardly ever squirmed, which was more than could be said of the brisket. He even cooked for himself, too – after trying the pulled pork recipe Earl Harlan had shared with him on the air, and calling Earl to tell him just how darned good it had been, Earl had enthusiastically begun sending him more recipes to try. At least, he assumed they were coming from Earl; it was a bit difficult to tell since the recipes just kept appearing underneath his bathroom scale. 

Cecil supposed he should have expected the weight gain that came as a result of his new diet, but since he had always hovered in the average range of neither thin nor fat and had never really given any thought whatsoever to his weight one way or another, it did manage to sneak up on him. At first, after he would eat, his stomach would naturally round out a bit just from all the food filling it up inside, but after a few hours’ digestion the engorged bump would go away and he would look the way he always had. But eventually that changed, and the bulge in his middle became a constant. A layer of softness enfolded his midsection like a warm hug, and he found that he liked rubbing it, prodding it experimentally, or even just resting a hand on it while he sat at his desk in the booth at the radio station. It was rather like a security blanket, something he could touch whenever he felt lonely or uncertain, something that said _Look how you’ve managed to invite more of you into existence, isn’t that weird and improbable and wonderful?_

The only thing that troubled him was his uncertainty as to how Carlos would feel about it. When he saw Carlos – that was to say, on the rare occasion that Carlos appeared in the studio in the form of a woefully intangible hologram – he made sure that his burgeoning belly was well concealed by his desk, though he wasn’t even totally certain whether Carlos could see him, as the whole hologram situation was a bit too scientific for him to really understand, if he was honest. He wasn’t entirely sure why he felt the need to hide it; it wasn’t as though he felt guilty about his overeating, or even that he felt he looked any less attractive than he had before he had started putting on the pounds. But there was some part of him that feared that when they were finally reunited, Carlos’s eyes would move down to his plump middle, taking in the new roundness of it, and Cecil would see disappointment there. And that frightened him, a little.

But when the time came, when he had figured out how to reach Carlos and his vacation had been approved by Station Management, he tried to push that nagging worry to the back of his mind. He was going to see Carlos, and that was what mattered. Surely Carlos would make some objective remark, as scientists were wont to do, about the change in his figure, but Cecil assured himself that that was likely to be the end of it. Anyway, who knew how long it would take him to traverse the wastes inside the Dog Park to reach where Carlos was? Maybe by the time he reached his boyfriend, he would have shed some of the extra weight anyway. 

The journey was not as arduous as he had anticipated, though, and given the amount of provisions he had taken with him just in case, by the time he reached Carlos’s settlement he was honestly not sure whether he had lost a few pounds or actually managed to gain a few more. At any rate, at the moment when he was reunited with Carlos at last, he was too ecstatic to even remember his worry, and he threw his arms around Carlos without a trace of self-consciousness. He didn’t think of it during the afternoon that Carlos spent excitedly showing Cecil around his little settlement and introducing him to his friends from the army of giant masked warriors, nor did he think about it when Carlos took him back to his little apartment on the side of a low craggy mountain (yes, an actual mountain) and they spent the early evening catching up and exchanging fond smiles and kisses that spoke of a passionate night to come. It was only when Carlos made dinner for the two of them that the thought returned to the fore of his mind. Carlos had made what he was calling pasta, though it was comprised primarily of surprisingly flavorful roots and an unidentifiable meat that oozed a little, and no actual pasta to speak of. It was delicious, though, and Cecil cleaned his plate quickly. He was about to ask for seconds when he thought better of it; perhaps Carlos had just been polite up until now, not saying anything about Cecil’s gain, but what if the disapproval appeared in his eyes when Cecil greedily asked for more of his food? He was fully intending to remain mum and pretend that he was satisfied with the amount he had had when Carlos unexpectedly said, “You look like you’re still hungry. Can I serve you some more?” and before Cecil could so much as nod, he was piling more of the sumptuous mixture onto Cecil’s plate. Cecil was surprised, because it wasn’t like Carlos to make an unsubstantiated assumption like that – he couldn’t claim any objective, scientific evidence that Cecil was still hungry, after all. But he was pleased to be offered more nonetheless, and ate it gladly. When Carlos put thirds on his plate, though, he was genuinely bewildered. When he looked up in surprise, Carlos merely smiled and said, “I’m glad you seem to like what I made for you.” 

By the time he had finished that third helping, he felt more stuffed than he felt he had a reason to; his stomach was well used to being overfilled by now, after all, but perhaps whatever was in the pasta had expanded a little or absorbed water in his belly, and he could feel the buttons on his shirt straining over the swollen curve of his gut even more than they usually did. A belch made its way up his throat before he had time to try to muffle it, and he blushed and looked at Carlos to gauge his reaction. Carlos had averted his eyes and his cheeks looked a little flushed, too. Secondhand embarrassment, no doubt, Cecil thought. “Thanks for making dinner,” he said, to relieve the awkwardness of the silence. “It was delicious.”

“You’re very welcome.” Carlos rose to put the dishes away, while Cecil did his best to stifle a few more burps that were determinedly trying to make their way up from his stomach. This couldn’t be good – what if Carlos wanted to get intimate and Cecil was ruining the moment with a belch or a loud gurgle from his stomach?

“Is it okay if I lie down for a little while? I think I ate too much,” he said. If he could get a quick nap in and give his stomach some time to digest, then surely he’d be ready to do all the things he had been fantasizing about doing with Carlos for the past year without embarrassing himself.

“Of course,” said Carlos, but blindsided Cecil by adding, “Can I lie down with you?”

Cecil could only nod, and Carlos accompanied him to his bedroom and crawled into the bed beside him. Cecil chose to lie on his left side, as he had heard that that was better for digestion, and Carlos lay behind him, cuddled close to his back. Cecil was just closing his eyes when he felt Carlos’s arm slip over him – and his hand came to rest directly on the side of his belly. 

He eyed the hand suspiciously out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t exactly ask Carlos to move it, but surely in that position Carlos could feel the gurgling in Cecil’s belly. Was this Carlos’s subtle way of telling Cecil he had noticed his gain? Or was it merely gentle concern that Cecil might have a stomachache, since he had said he felt that he ate too much? Either way, the hand didn’t seem to be going anywhere, so Cecil sighed and let his eyes close.

After a few minutes, when Cecil had nearly drifted off to sleep, he was pulled back to consciousness by a sensation on the side of his belly, a gentle tapping feeling. He let one eye open and saw that Carlos’s hand was patting his belly. _Pat, pat, pat_ – three light pats, and then Carlos’s hand lay still again. Cecil kept his eye open, but didn’t say anything, curious to see what Carlos would do next, knowing that from his vantage point Carlos would not be able to tell whether Cecil had fallen asleep or not. A few minutes went by, and Cecil wondered whether Carlos had fallen asleep, but then, there it was again – _pat, pat, pat_. The same rhythm, just slightly more firmly now, making a light slapping sound against Cecil’s ample flesh, slightly muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Another few minutes elapsed before the same thing happened again, and this time after the patting Carlos’s hand began to slide up and down, exploring the curve of Cecil’s shape. It was at this point that Cecil began to notice something poking him in the small of the back, and he realized abruptly that, whatever Carlos thought he was doing, it must be arousing to him.

He sat up abruptly and turned toward Carlos, whose eyes widened and cheeks darkened in embarrassment at the realization that Cecil was awake. “Carlos, what are you doing?” he asked, without any judgment or irritation, just pure confusion and curiosity.

“Sorry,” Carlos said, looking as guilty as a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He sat up to better meet Cecil’s eyes. “It’s just… I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve put on some weight, Cecil.”

There it was, the words that Cecil had been waiting to hear. But far from the disappointment or disapproval he had feared, the words came with a sort of barely restrained rapturous excitement, as if Carlos could hardly contain how positive he felt about this development. “And you… you like it?” he said slowly, hoping he had not misunderstood. 

“I… Yes,” came Carlos’s breathless reply, and as his gaze flicked down to Cecil’s midsection, Cecil saw the truth of that in the way Carlos’s cheeks colored and he bit his lip.

Cecil felt a warm smile spread across his face. “You should have just said so, then. Go ahead, you can touch me. Don’t be shy.” He leaned in to nip Carlos’s ear teasingly, just as Carlos extended both hands to frame Cecil’s belly and let out a shuddering, barely audible moan. 

Cecil leaned back to give Carlos free reign to fully explore his new shape, feeling warm and relieved inside now that he knew Carlos felt just as positively about his gain as he did. Carlos spent a few minutes just exploring Cecil’s belly with his hands, rubbing them up and down over the round shape, resting them on the sides, pressing gently into his nascent love handles. Then he began to unbutton Cecil’s shirt from the bottom up, slowly at first, as he seemed determined to kiss every new inch of skin that was revealed and to trace each of the light, pink stretch marks near the lowest part of the curve of his belly with his fingertips, but he went more quickly as he went along, seemingly eager to reveal all of what the fabric hid. Finally he had opened the shirt completely, and was gazing at Cecil’s naked belly with such transfixed admiration that Cecil was legitimately worried for a second that his boyfriend might have had an aneurysm from sheer overload of arousal. But at last he snapped out of his reverie long enough to say, “God, Cecil, you’re so _hot_ … oh my god…” 

It was not as though Carlos had never told him that before – as fond as Cecil was of praising Carlos’s appearance in the public forum, it was Carlos who seemed more prone to praising Cecil’s during intimacy – but hearing it now made Cecil blush and sent a shiver of arousal down his spine. He had never seen Carlos so hot and bothered before either of them had even fully undressed, and it was intoxicating to know that he was having such an effect on him. Carlos leaned down to press a few open, heated kisses to Cecil’s navel, and Cecil shuddered and closed his eyes to enjoy the ministrations.

But then he felt Carlos shift, and he opened his eyes as Carlos gently shunted Cecil forward on the bed so that he could crawl in behind him. Carlos sat with his back against the headboard, his legs on either side of Cecil, and leaned Cecil back against his chest, his hands returning magnetically to Cecil’s stomach. As Carlos began to rub and knead across his belly, Cecil couldn’t help but burp as Carlos’s hands shifted his stomach contents, and he blushed, but judging by the amorous way Carlos bit his ear and the continued feel of Carlos’s erection against his back, it seemed that, if anything, Carlos liked that, too.

Cecil closed his eyes and let his head loll back against Carlos’s chest, enjoying the feel of his boyfriend’s hands on his stomach. He had never felt so safe, so relaxed, so full, so loved. He belched again, without embarrassment this time, and sighed in contentment. Clearly this was going to be an even better vacation than he could ever have anticipated.


End file.
